


War-Torn

by Whymsical



Series: in this universe and the next [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Historical Hetalia, M/M, Post-World War II, some talk about the war and its effects and all that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22744348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whymsical/pseuds/Whymsical
Summary: America stared.England was beyond thin. He looked to be just skin and bones. His uniform looked much too big for him, and dirt and sweat and blood had seemingly rubbed permanently into his skin, though there wasn't as much as a few weeks ago."Hey England," America finally managed to get out, his voice cracking lightly at the beginning. "We won."
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Series: in this universe and the next [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1175639
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	War-Torn

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt was end of WWII USUK with them as countries.
> 
> 15/02/2020- I'm splitting up the collection this was a part of for ease of access and tagging of each story.

It was finally over.

After 2175 days of horror and pain, World War II had finally drawn to a close on all fronts. There were still soldiers to recall, treaties to sign, meetings to go to, and a million other things to take care of, but all America had on his mind was making sure England was all right.

He trotted purposefully through the streets of London, trying to ignore all of the damage around him and not thinking about the effects it would have on the smaller island nation's body. Luckily his feet knew the way to England's house, so he didn't have to look around that much.

His heart began to flutter faster as he approached the familiar door. After the war he was slightly thinner and more tired and more ragged, and the fighting hadn't even reached his shores that much. England, who'd been bombed almost constantly at one point during that horrible summer and autumn*... He had looked extremely worn down at the last meeting, and who knew if things had gotten worse between then and now? America had been focused on defeating Japan, but he hoped England was looking and feeling better.

Though he wanted to burst in and run straight to England, America thought he'd be polite for once and just knock. He did just that and then waited, his foot tapping a fast rhythm into the front steps.

Footsteps were heard, starting out faintly and then getting louder, before the door unlocked and England peered out. "America?"

America stared.

England was beyond thin. He looked to be just skin and bones. His uniform looked much too big for him, and dirt and sweat and blood had seemingly rubbed permanently into his skin, though there wasn't as much as a few weeks ago. At least his bandages were clean. Dark, prominent circles were etched under his eyes. But his eyes, England's emerald eyes, were still alight with fire. There was a determined set to his jaw and a little frown of concentration between his dark fuzzy eyebrows.

"Hey England," America finally managed to get out, his voice cracking lightly at the beginning. "We won."

"So I've heard," England replied quickly, wryly. "But oh, where are my manners? Do come in." He moved away from the door.

Again, America was struck my how weakened the other nation looked. He knew though, that while England might look as if he were about to collapse, there was still a lot of fight left in him. "Thanks."

He tried to look around as discreetly as he could as England led the way to the sitting room. All of the room seemed darker somehow, and emptier. It could have been because some of England's possessions were missing, but it was also just a general _feeling_ of emptiness. England really had gotten hit much harder than him, and it was startlingly obvious.

"America." England's voice cut through his thoughts.

"H-Huh?" America jumped slightly. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you would like something to drink."

"O-Oh. Yeah, sure." America gave him a small smile of apology for zoning out.

England nodded and left, leaving America alone with his thoughts for a few more minutes. Then he was back, placing a teacup down in front of the larger nation.

"Thanks, England." America raised the cup to his lips to take a sip when suddenly he froze. "England, where's your cup?"

England averted his eyes slightly and shifted on the couch. "I still have a slight shortage because of the rationing," he said lowly.

America gently placed the teacup down and slid it across the table to him.

"What are you doing?" England watched him with confusion in his eyes.

"You like tea more," America replied simply with a smile.

"But you're my guest. I can't accept that. It's your tea," England said stubbornly. He pushed the cup back over to America.

"But if you don't have enough, then _you_ should drink it." America moved the teacup across the table again. "I can get some water or coffee back at the embassy."

"You're my guest," England repeated. "It's for...you."

This time when England had shifted the teacup, America caught his hand with his own larger one and held it there. He ever so gently wrapped England's fingers around the outside of the cup and then squeezed, tightening their grip. "Take the tea, England. The hero prefers coffee anyway!" America said with a broad grin and a loud laugh. Both didn't seem like they belonged in the somber room, but the American ignored the fact.

England drew back with a faint blush and a 'tch', but he knew what America was trying to do and appreciated it. He took the teacup with him and sipped at the cooling liquid.

America grinned at him, but it was more relaxed and real this time. After a moment, it faded away. "How are you, England?"

"I'm fine," Came the automatic reply.

"I mean it."

England regarded him seriously. "The war was hard and exhausting, but I'll survive and recover. My people are strong."

"Keep calm and carry on, huh?"

"Even without seeing that poster, it seems they knew it.**" England allowed a small smile of pride to creep onto his face.

America's heart skipped a beat at the sight. He'd always loved England's smile, and thought that the elder nation didn't show it nearly enough. "Does it hurt anywhere?" he asked softly.

England hesitated, but then nodded. "A bit. Across my chest and sides, from the bombings. But they're healing quickly. A-America?"

America stood and walked over, sitting down next to him and gathering the smaller nation into his arms. England felt so frail, and America wanted to treat him very carefully, but he knew that if he voiced such thoughts or went overboard with that England would get mad and snap about not being made of glass. He hugged him tightly, but not too tight. "I'm sorry," he murmured, nose buried in England's hair.

England leaned against him, letting out a soft sigh. "What for?"

This World War and the last had brought him and America closer together than almost any other time before. Many times in the latter part of the war the two of them had found themselves side by side, unsure if they'd make it. It was during one such occasion that America had kissed him. England was surprised, but he'd kissed back. A few more had followed, all of them chaste and short. The Brit wasn't exactly sure what to make of it, but he decided that he liked the warm feeling in his chest.

"Not coming sooner." America clung to him more tightly for a moment.

"We've gone over this before. Now stop that." England maneuvered his arms around so he could hug America back.

"M'still sorry."

England drew back and raised an eyebrow at him unamusedly.

America gave him a sheepish smile and leaned forward to peck him lightly on the lips. When the Brit didn't complain or move away, he kissed him again, longer and with more conviction.

"Mmm...'Merica," England mumbled against him. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." America drew back and ran a thumb across England's cheek. "I'm gonna do whatever I can to help you recover," he said with determination.

"America-"

"I will. You and anyone else who needs it***. But you especially. Hero's promise." America hugged him tighter again.

England felt warmth and relief flood through him. He shifted so he was sitting in America's lap. "Thank you..." His pride could handle a _little_ help.

"I will help," America repeated with a smile, and sealed the vow with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are love, comments are life ^0^
> 
> * Refers to the Battle of Britain, which was the German aerial campaign against Britain during the summer and fall of 1940.
> 
> ** The famous 'Keep Calm and Carry On' poster, despite the production of it, it wasn't actually hung up anywhere or shown during the war. I'd assume England would have seen it though.
> 
> *** After WWII, America had a plan to economically help all of the European nations who needed it, provided that they had a Democracy as their government. This was called the Marshall Plan (and also the European Recovery Program ERP). America gave the most money to England. Interestingly enough, the Soviet Union also offered aid, but only if the nations didn't have Democracy as their government system, or were part of the Soviet Union.


End file.
